


Epilogue

by 1minute



Series: A long way since Budapest [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Clintasha - Freeform, Endgame Fix-It, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 07:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18806437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1minute/pseuds/1minute
Summary: ENDGAME SPOILERSFive years after Endgame, Clint wakes up with memory loss.





	1. Chapter 1

Thanos had been able to control the stones with his special glove once, but they had turned against him when he destroyed them, almost killing him in the process. They did the same thing to Bruce, and now they were going to do the same thing to him. Tony snapped his fingers, and their reality changed again.

Clint wakes up dazed. His head is spinning, and when he slowly opens his eyes, his view is blurred. He tries to assess his surroundings – the sounds are muted, which means he isn’t wearing his hearing aids. He’s propped up on several pillows in a very comfortable bed, and the room is filled with personal trinkets, which means he has to be in someone’s home. His aids are on the nightstand next to him and he grabs them, inserting them carefully back into his ears. His body aches in protest at the movement, and only then he realizes there are bruises all over him and bandages covering his back. Now that he’s awake, he looks around the room attentively, starting with the frames on the nightstand. There is a picture of him and Nathaniel on what had to be his 3rdbirthday, which had taken place right before Thanos. What Clint doesn’t understand is why it’s here, in this person’s home. Next to it, there is a picture he has never seen before. _Natasha._ He’s in the photo as well, both of them grinning like idiots, Clint’s arms wrapped tightly around Natasha and the little girl she’s holding. A girl that, upon closer inspection, looks very familiar. Staring out at him from the frame, she looks like the carbon copy of his former partner, except for the eyes – which are unmistakably a perfect copy of his own. His heart breaks all over again, before cold rage takes hold of him. He was going to find and kill the bastard who did this. He just lost his best friend, the only woman he loved besides Laura, and somebody put a photo shopped picture of him and Tasha with a fake kid on his nightstand, while he was asleep, still recuperating from the battle?! He looks back down at the picture, and he feels tears prick at the back of his eyes. After coming back from Vormir, he hadn’t cried, hadn’t had time to mourn her, and the last thing he remembers is Tony snapping his fingers and a bright blast of light throwing him through the air.

“DAD! You’re awake!” A small boy barrels through the door and jumps on the bed, making him hiss in pain and drop the picture. “Mama said you were asleep and to leave you alone but I thought you might be hungry and went to check if you’re awake because Uncle Bruce– “ Clint looks at his son in shock. “Nathaniel?” He whispers. “Uncle Bruce is here and he made his special tacos and I thought you might want some!” The little boy beams up at him. “But… you’re three!” “No I’m not, I just turned eight!” He scrunches up his face, offended, before noticing the photo on the floor. “Why is Mama and Aly’s picture on the floor?” Nathaniel’s question shakes him to his very core; his mouth goes dry and his hands start shaking as his son climbs off the bed to pick it up. _Mama and Aly_. Clint can feel his head spinning again, the air leaving his lungs in wheezing breaths. He’s vaguely aware of Nathaniel trying to talk to him and then screaming somewhere in the background, the door being thrown open and two hands pushing him gently but firmly back into the pillows. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Even in this state, he recognizes the voice immediately, and he frees himself from the arms around him to stare up at the person he’d thought he’d lost forever. “Tasha?”


	2. Chapter 2

She’s about to say something, but Clint doesn’t care. He crushes her to him, inhaling her scent. He has to make sure she’s real, that it is really her, not some hallucination from the painkillers that are without a doubt in his system. He pulls back and takes her face in his hands, tears in his eyes. “You’re alive.” Natasha frowns. “Of course I am. It’s you who had us worried for the past two days.” “Am I dead? Is that why you’re here?” Her confused expression turns into one of worry. “Clint” she asks, “what are you talking about?” “You let go of my arm. You were just lying there, motionless on the bottom of the cliff, and next thing I know, I’m waking up in that shallow pool with the damn stone in my hand without you and – ““Clint!” She interrupts him sharply, and he can see something in her eyes that he hasn’t seen for a long time. She’s scared.

Natasha Romanoff, his best friend and partner, who has saved his ass on countless occasions and sacrificed herself for him on that stupid planet, is scared. “When was the last time we spoke?” “What?” He reaches for her again, brushing a stray lock back behind her ear. “Tasha, why are you asking me that question?” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. Her reply is a whispered “Please just answer, okay? For me?” His panic is back by now, making its presence known, a nagging feeling at the back of his mind. “We went to get the soul stone on Vormir. The creepy dude with the red face told us that in order to obtain it, one of us had to die, and… You jumped after me and secured me on the line, and then you let go of my arm. I watched you fall to your death.” Now it is her who reaches for him, carefully avoiding his injuries, and holds him tight. “Clint”, she whispers in his ear. “You were in a car crash two days ago, and you were severely injured. We managed to patch you up thanks to Bruce and Dr. Cho. We brought you home last night, heavily sedated.” “What? What are you talking about, Tony snapped his fingers and I was thrown back-“ before he can finish his sentence, something catches his attention on her left hand. Sitting on her ring finger is a thin silver band with an arrow engraved into it. He glances down at his own hand, and sure enough he finds a matching silver ring – only that his has an hourglass on it. It suddenly makes sense to him; the wedding bands on their fingers, her worry for him so blatantly on display when she’s always been reserved, the familiar trinkets around the room, the little girl with her hair and his eyes – _Jesus Christ._ Natasha has followed his line of sight and quickly put two and two together, distancing herself from him before he grabs her wrist and pulls her back onto the bed. “We didn’t win, did we?” She laces her fingers with his, before looking at him with sorrow etched into her every feature. “Not the way we imagined it, no.” “How long?” “Five years.” “Well, fuck.” If the situation wasn’t so grave, he’s pretty sure she’d have raised her eyebrows at him in amusement. His eyes fall back onto the picture of them with the little girl – their little girl – and in that exact moment, his panic subsides, his breathing slows and his muscles relax. He sits up, looking her square in the eye and asks. “Tell me everything.”

Natasha looks uncertain for a moment, but she gives in. “Tony’s snap didn’t work the way we’d wanted it to. It erased Thanos and a big part of his army, yes, but also some of our own.” “Who?” “Wanda, Rhodey, some of Rocket’s team and the Pyms vanished, and Tony’s heart gave out after the snap. He died in Pepper’s and Peter’s arms.” Clint closes his eyes. “Laura and the kids?” “Only Nate survived.” He breathes out raggedly. So he’d been alone. He had lost almost everyone because of that purple megalomaniac. “How did you come back?” “The stones had to be returned. Turns out no one had ever brought back the soul stone before, and according to Steve once he gave it back he found himself in a shallow pool and I was lying beside him, unconscious.” When he opens his eyes again, she’s looking out of the window, twisting her wedding ring around her finger. “And our reaction to all of that was to get married?” His partner – _wife –_ rolls her eyes at him, and he’s quite pleased with himself at the grin that stretches across her face. “No, our reaction was to sleep with each other, which resulted in Aly, which ended in you proposing within 24h of her birth.”

He can hear Bruce and the kids downstairs, and in that moment, he knows they’ll be okay. And God, seeing Natasha here, with him, alive, after all the shit they’ve been through, he can’t help himself but love her. She has two small kids downstairs and a husband who’s been unconscious for two days and then woke up with memory loss, no recollection of the life they had built over the last five years, and here she is, explaining everything to him. Going through the trauma they had endured willingly, in order to help him. She has his back, as always, and Clint thanks whatever god or deity is out there for that. “I understand if you need space, and I should probably check on the kids before Bruce hulks out on them…” “Nat?” “Yeah?” “Would you- I mean could you help me get downstairs so I could see our kid? The little girl? I’d like to meet her.” Natasha’s eyes are glassy, and his own fill with tears at the pain he’s feeling and he’s sure she has to be feeling as well. She helps him out of the bed, and they manage to slowly get down the stairs. Bruce is outside with their kids; Nate is playing with Lucky, and perched on Bruce’s hip is a little girl with bright red hair.

Clint stops in the living room, taking in the scene through the window. He looks down, back up, and then to Natasha, who is carefully masking her anxiety. “Thank you”, he whispers, before pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair. She smiles up at him, tucking herself under his chin, but he tilts her head up and kisses her softly. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” “Dear God, Nat… we will have to talk about it, I know, but when I woke up today, I didn’t even know if my kids were alive, or how my life was supposed to go on, and here you are. You’re still my partner, my best friend, and we have a little girl out there, and I get to hold her, to hold you, and Nate, and be here, which is more than I’d ever deserve after the five years I spent on a killing spree. I know that you think our feelings for each other were not the same, but you broke my fucking heart when you sacrificed yourself like that, so please… I have mourned Laura for years, and when I finally was at your side again, I lost you too. Please just… let me hold you, and our children, and we’ll figure out the rest together. Please, Tasha.” His voice breaks halfway through his speech, and both of them have to sit down onto the couch, tears streaming down their faces as they hold each other, overcome with emotion


	3. Chapter 3

“Papa?” A small voice breaks them apart, a little hand coming up to Clint’s face and patting it gently. “Papa don’t cry.” He sees a girl, not more than four years old, standing in front of the couch, trying to comfort them. Clint looks into her eyes, lets go of Natasha and scoops her up as he drops on his knees. The girl – _Alya,_ he remembers, his daughter – burrows into him, clutching his shirt in her little fists. “Mama, why is Papa so sad?” Natasha furiously wipes away her own tears at the reunion in front of her, before joining them on the floor and hugging them to her. Before she can answer, Clint has transferred the little girl to her and pulled them into his arms, resting his back against the couch. “Papa’s not sad, sweetheart, these are happy tears, I promise.” He looks at the two women in his arms – Alya snuggled into her mother, Natasha leaning against him, her face buried into her daughter’s hair – and can’t believe they are his. “Clint, your back – “ he cuts her off with a kiss. “Can wait. Where’s your brother, little lady?” Aly clambers back onto him and winds her arms around his neck. “Uncle Bruce and him are walking Lucky.” “Moya milaya, why don’t you go on up and brush your teeth? It’s way past your bedtime already.” Aly shrieks as Natasha tickles and gently pushes her towards the stairs, but not before untangling herself from her mother’s grasp and reaching for Clint. “Better now, Papa?” He holds her tightly. “All better, little love.” When she still doesn’t look convinced, he presses a kiss to her head and whispers, “No more tears, I promise.” Alya beams at that, throws herself at her mother and then races up the stairs, leaving him and Natasha alone on their living room floor. Clint stares in awe in the direction she’s just disappeared, only realizing it when his wife interrupts him. “She had you wrapped around her finger from the moment we found out we were having a girl.” He tugs her closer to him. “She looks just like you. Jesus Christ, what am I gonna do when she starts dating? I don’t even wanna think about it!” They laugh, their very first carefree laugh since he’s woken up without remembering the past five years of his life. “Well, you did insist on a hidden roof for exactly that purpose, so I’m sure you’re gonna come up with something.” They are both subconsciously leaning towards each other when their moment is suddenly interrupted.

“DAD! You’re up!” His son launches himself at him without regards to his back wounds. Natasha immediately pulls Nate away as he hunches over in pain. “I’m sorry guys, once he saw that you were sitting in there he took off!” Bruce more or less barges into the room. “Nathaniel Pietro Barton, for the last time, you do NOT run off from your aunts and uncles, you could get hurt!” Natasha scolds him gently while simultaneously checking that he’s alright. “And you need to go easy on your father, he just had a car crash.” “It’s okay, Nat, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, bud.” He tries to reassure his son as Bruce checks his bandages. “Mama? Is it my fault dad’s in pain?” Clint’s eyes snap to Natasha, who pulls Nathaniel up onto the couch with her. She wipes a tear away from his cheek and hugs him. “No, of course not! Dad got hit by someone who wasn’t paying attention on the road, you just need to be a bit gentle with him for a couple of days.” “You promise?” “I promise, malen'kiy yastreb. Uncle Bruce will fix him up and then he’ll be good as new.” Nate looks to Bruce, who nods and winks at him. “Listen to your mother, young man. Lord knows we should’ve done it more often in the past. Alright, all set here, I’ll be back in two days to see if we can take the bandages off. If you guys don’t mind, I’ll head out now, Helen will already be wondering where I am. Don’t get up, I can see myself out, I’ve been here before.” Natasha smiles and takes his hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you so much Bruce, for everything. Say hi to Helen for me, okay?” “It’s what you do for family. Hey buddy, I’ll see you soon okay?” He ruffles Nate’s hair, earning a big grin and a hug from the eight year old, and then turns to Clint. “If the pain gets worse, you call me immediately, understood?” “Yes Sir.” They grin at each other. “It’s good to have you back, Barton.”


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha falls back into her pillow, exhausted. Both Alya and Nathaniel had missed Clint terribly over the last few days, so they both wanted to be tucked in by him, which led to a much later bedtime than both were used to. “I never thought I’d get to have this again.” She turns onto her side, coming face to face with him. “What?” “A home. A family. And you, you’re just amazing with them. We really have come a long way since Budapest, haven’t we?” She rolls her eyes. “We should really stop comparing everything to Budapest. It wasn’t our finest hour.” They grin at each other before bursting into silent laughter. Clint pulls her close, winding his arms around her. “I really missed you” She confesses. “When I got that call… It felt like a sick joke, a cruel twist of fate. We’ve survived our SHIELD days, the battle of Manhattan and two encounters with fucking Thanos, and now a drunk driver was going to take you from me, from the kids?!” He kisses her again, but she’s hesitant to return it. When he pulls back, she steels herself for what she has to say. “Today has been… intensive, to say the least. Are you sure you’re okay with this, with us?” He meets her gaze straight on. “Natalia Romanoff – well I guess it’s Barton now.” “You don’t have to look so smug about it, you know.”

He cocks his eyebrow at her. “Sure I have to, but that’s not the point right now. I looked at this house carefully, and in every single picture I look like the happiest man alive. And it’s not just that, it’s also the place itself– I looked around and I knew exactly where everything was, I remembered Alya’s name the moment she was in my arms, and every time I look at you, at our family, I can’t not love you. I might need some time to get the hang of everything again, but hey, I’m one half of the goddamn best spy-duo this world – screw that – this universe has ever seen, so I don’t expect it to be too hard.” She kisses him with everything she has. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” “I love you too. If you have some energy left in you, I actually have some more news.” Natasha bites her lip and reaches over to the nightstand, opening the first drawer and pulling out a small picture. She hands it to Clint, who examines the photo, and watches as he realizes what he is holding. “Is this… are you?” “Yes.” He chokes out a laugh and presses a searing kiss to her lips. “How far along?” Clint lifts her shirt – one of his old SHIELD tees - to place his hand on her stomach, where their new baby is already growing, and the gesture fills her with confidence. Confidence in him, in their partnership, in their family that has already suffered so much. “Six weeks. You were on your way to our spot on the beach when that driver hit you. I was going to surprise you.” She smiles as he envelops her again in his arms, happy tears in his eyes. “We have really gone soft, this is the second time we’ve ended up crying today.” She laughs in between her own tears. His answer erases the last of her insecurities. “Babe, if this is what I get for going soft, I’ll gladly take it.”

Maksim Anthony Barton was born on the sixth anniversary of Thanos’ defeat, the spitting image of Nate as a baby except for his emerald green eyes. Clint came home a couple of days later after picking up Alya from dance class in the evening to find Natasha dozing on the couch. Nate was bent over the baby bassinet talking to Maks, who was looking at his brother with wide eyes. Alya was in his arms, her face buried in his neck, red hair spilling over his shoulder and her little hand holding tightly onto his shirt; she’d been very protective of him since his car crash. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, savoring this moment of peace with his family. When he opened them again, Natasha was looking at him, a small smile on her face. He wound his arms tighter around his daughter, brushing her hair out of her face. “What do you say, sweetheart, wanna go say hi to Mama and the boys?”


End file.
